Promise Queen
by Mental Verin
Summary: Before he left he was married. Now as a grown knight whose trial is coming to an end he has no idea whether she is alive or not...until his final mission for Rome. TristanxOC Rated M for mature language and adult scenes.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own King Arthur (2004)

Rating: M for mature language and adult scenes that may not be acceptable for young children.

Promise Queen

Prolog

My eyes fluttered open at the lightest touch against my skin. The small smile that crept over my face was attributed to the feel of his warm and calloused fingers as they traveled down my arm. His actions started from my shoulder with a kiss that went with the light scratching of his developing facial hair; then it traveled downward. Over my upper arm, teasing the small hairs there, to the inside of my elbow where my blood pumped quickly through my veins, and then down my lower arm to my wrist and hand where he entwined our fingers together; his touch was always gentle with me, no matter what.

My smile grew into a grin as he buried his nose in my hair. He drew in a deep breath as he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer to his battle hardened body. As our skins touched, I felt the shiver that went through his body and heard the light groan he whispered in my ear.

"Gods, Aeron," he sighed as he took in another breath of my scent, "I could stay here forever with you." Another breath taken. "Your scent is all I need to survive," he mumbled.

I giggled slightly. "Mmm…sorry, love," I mumbled. "You may be able to survive on only me," I said turned over to look up into his handsome face. "But I personally need more than your body to continue living." The smirk I gave him made him smile in return and lit up his beautiful golden eyes.

"Good morning, Aeron," he said quietly.

"Good morning, Tristan," I replied as I reached up to place a gentle hand on his cheek. My thumb brushed over the darkened skin of his tattoos. I remember the day he had gotten them; two on each cheek.

He had only been a boy of twelve but he had still gritted his teeth together and not uttered a word of pain as his uncle had pricked his skin over and over again until his cheeks were bloody and the older man had rubbed the dried ink into the wounds to color the skin. That night the wounds had gotten infected and he had developed a fever and I watched as my mother had used her knowledge as the tribe's healer to bring him back to us. It had frightened me how high his fever had been and when my mother had told his uncle that he would stay with us for the night I stayed up and held his hand through the fever.

I dragged myself from the memory, blinking my eyes to clear my mind, and leaned towards him to kiss the tattoos that were forever on his skin. As I pulled away, the saddened look that crossed his face broke my heart and I felt tears prick at my eyes. I knew his next words before he said them. I expected them but the still tore at my soul and made me want to pull him to me and never let go.

"They'll be here soon," he said quietly.

I nodded in understanding before I looked down at our entwined hands and let out a shuddering breath. "I know," I said and heard my voice crack. "I know," I whispered the two words to myself before I looked up into the gold eyes I had loved from day one. Eyes that burned me to the core and were forever seared in my mind. "W-We should probably get up then, shouldn't we?" I said stumbling over my words.

His slight nod was enough to push me over when added to his sad and downtrodden expression. I wrapped my arms around him and buried my crying face in his chest. My body shook with the force of my tears but I uttered no sound. How could I, when there was no doubt that I would never see my Tristan again?

I felt his strong hands as they brushed through my thick hair and rubbed my skin in calming circles. Those same hands had held me into the night as we had made love. Those same hands had pulled me up when I had fallen down. Those same hands were the ones that had held on to mine as I was buried to this strong and brave man who had made his first kill at only the age of twelve.

"I don't want you to go, Tristan," I said as I wept.

"I know, Aeron," he replied as he held me tight. "But I promise you that I will return to you," he tucked my head beneath his chin as he made his promise. But how could he keep a promise when the reason he was leaving was to fight for a cause not of his own choosing.

I pulled away from him only to move my lips towards his in a passionate and smoldering kiss. Our lips didn't part except for when we needed air and even those short pauses were very brief. The smell of cedar wood and grass permeated my senses as I kissed the man I loved with every fiber of my being. A man who could not control his fate and was forced to embrace a future that he didn't want.

His hand cupped my cheek as his lips laid bare my soul and we both tasted my tears as our tongues intertwined in a dance that we had made our own. I didn't want to break away from that kiss but all too soon we knew we had to get ready for the coming trial and we pulled away from each other.

"Go back to sleep, Aeron," he whispered in the small space between us. "I'll wake you after I'm done packing."

I nodded silently with tears still streaming down my face before he kissed my forehead and got out from underneath the warm furs of our bed. Without him beside me it seemed cold and I couldn't go back into the slumber I had awoken from; so I watched him. I watched Tristan as he walked through our small hut, collecting things he would need for his journey to a land that was far away from his home and from me.

He had dressed himself in the dark leathers and furs that kept the slight chill of our land away from our skin. His saddlebags, he had filled with clothing and the small weapons that he didn't carry on his person at the moment. I knew he would take no personal trinkets on his march to the land east but I wanted him to take one item to remember me by on his travel.

I got up and dressed myself as well. All the while, I could feel his golden gaze burning into my back as he watched my fingers fasten the belts and ties of my own leathers and the thought that I was forever his ran through my mind.

I finished dressing as he finished packing and I turned to him as he slung his saddlebags onto his shoulder with his sword on his back and his bow in hand. He gave me a small smile as he led me from our hut and to his horse which was tethered nearby. He set his bags on the ground and handed me his bow to hold as he saddled the great white beast named Aidan. The horse stood there quietly as Tristan saddled him, unusual for the short tempered creature, proving that the air around them was tense with anticipation.

As Tristan bent down to retrieve his bags the distant sounds of numerous horses carried on the gentle wind that blew around us. Along with it came the cry of one of the younger men in our tribe as he raced towards us on foot.

"Tristan!" he called as he skidded to a halt in front of us. He gasped for breath as he tried to deliver his message. "They're here, Tristan!" he said in a hurry.

Tristan let out a sigh as he let his gaze fall to the ground for a moment before they traveled to me. I almost broke out into tears again at the forlorn look he gave me but I held strong to my emotions as I gazed up into his dark eyes. The message that we conveyed to each other in that single moment was enough to hold anyone for a thousand lifetimes.

Tristan turned his gaze back towards the boy and nodded to him silently. The boy then ran back the way he had come and ran into one of the nearby huts to hide from the approaching nightmare. With the message delivered, Tristan continued to prepare his horse and get ready for his journey. Aidan pawed at the ground as his own anticipation got to him and he watched the hillside that had a thick fog to hide our fears.

"Tristan," I said quietly to call his attention to me. He hesitated in buckling his bags to his saddle to make sure they would stay in place before he looked at me. I took a deep breath and hooked his bow to his saddle before I moved towards him. I reached up around my own neck and undid the clasp that held the small wolf's tooth that swung against my chest. It had been a gift from my father before he had passed on to the Otherworld and left Tristan and I with his blessing to marry. I reached up to him and he leaned down to allow me to tie the braided cord so that he wouldn't lose it. As we retreated from each other I let my hand slide down his leathers to touch the large fang gently. "So that you will be protected by our brothers' spirits," I whispered gently as I looked at my hand covering the fang and nowhere else. I took another deep, shuddering breath before I looked up into his eyes. There I saw the same love that I shared for him. "And so that I know you'll come home to me one day," I whispered. My voice was chocked and as the dam broke he pulled me to him and hugged me tightly.

"I will return, Aeron," he whispered against my dark hair. "I promise you that I will come back one day and hold you in my arms until the gods tear us apart," he said. His hand bunched my hair up as he held on to me for the last moments of our life as it was.

But all too soon, our enemies, his future, came over the hill and down to our small encampment. They had already collected some of the other young men from the other tribes and many of them were slumped in there saddles, as though their grief was too much for them to bear. One of the five Romans that accompanied them came forward on his horse to look over our gathered people.

His face held a mixture of boredom and pity as he looked around. "Who here is between the ages of twelve and twenty," he said in a harsh and gruff voice. I flinched as I heard that voice and felt Tristan pull away so that he could confront the man.

"I am," he said only loud enough so that the man could hear him.

The Roman nodded. "Then by orders of Rome you are called to protect her lands. Gather your things and let's be on our way," he said quickly.

Tristan gave the man a swift nod in return before turning back to Aidan and finishing up his preparations. Too soon he was ready to leave and had leapt into the saddle on his horse's back. I grabbed his leg as he started to move away from me. His gaze turned to me and finished shattering my heart with the sadness that I saw there.

"Return to me, Tristan. Come back to me," I whispered up to him.

He nodded to me. "I will, Aeron," he whispered back. "I promise to return to you and all our people."

The Roman called for him to hurry up and I was forced to let him go as he rode away from me and our village. As he reached the other collected boys one of the men in the crowd that were too old to collect called out his name. When he turned in his saddle to look at them I felt his gaze fall on me as the crowd let out our Sarmatian battle cry.

"RUS!"

The sound carried on as the other boys who had been collected let out the same cry as they all raised their fists into the air.

"Rus…" I whispered and let the wind carry the single word to the man I would never see again.

Tristan nodded to me before turning back in his saddle and continuing up the hill and towards the unwanted future that was before him. When they were all gone, when we could no longer see them through the fog, I felt myself break. My heart turned to dust as I fell to my knees and the wind picked up the little pieces of what was left and carried them after Tristan. The tears fell soon after as I wrapped my arms around myself to try to comfort me but nothing could make me feel whole again until Tristan was in my arms again.

"Come, child," said a kind voice as a pair of gentle hands were placed on my upper arms. I could feel the soothing warmth of the hands as they picked me up from my spot and brought me into a warm hug. "My poor little warrior," the voice said kindly, "Do not fret. You two will join again soon. Don't fret."

I looked up into warm brown eyes and knew who held me. Morrigan, the oldest female warrior in our village, and like the goddess she was named for, she brought down her enemies with a fierce quickness. Everyone took her words above everyone else's opinion and this also included me.

"Are you sure, Morrigan?" I asked her as she held me.

She nodded to me with a small smile. "More than I've been about anything else," she said quietly. She pulled me into her hug again and I let myself be warmed by her words and her hold.

"Thank you."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own King Arthur (2004).

Rated: M for mature language and adult scenes that may not be appropriate for some ages.

Promise Queen

Chapter 1: Meet Again

I stared up at the rusty ring above me that attached to the ceiling. The chains that held my arms up connected to the annoyance that kept me from my freedom and all my hope. But all was not lost on me as I pulled myself up. I used the muscles that I had developed in my past years to support me as I turned my body upside down as my feet pressed against the ceiling. I counted silently to myself before I began to put all of my weight on the chain and ring. My legs pushed against the ceiling to add more strain to the abnormally strong metal links. The muscles in my legs began to tire quickly with the loss of blood flow to them but I continued to push against the ceiling, hoping and wishing for some sort of weakening. But all too soon I had to stop with a single whisper.

"Aeron!" the Woad princess hissed my name as a warning.

I stopped struggling for a single moment to catch the sounds of banging from above. I held my breath as I listened and slowly lowered my feet back to the ground so that I would not give our guests any un-benevolent thoughts. I listened closely to the voices as the banging ceased and footsteps were heard. The familiar voices of the monks, in their frightened and insane manner, rang eerily in my ears.

The monk's praying came to a halt as the footsteps got closer. "Who are these defilers of the lord's temple?" His insanity had always peaked my interest as to where it had come from.

"Out of the way," a new voice said. The anger and disgust that rippled through that one voice was enough to calm me in knowing that not all men relished what had been done here. The fact that he had a familiar accent that was native to my land added even more comfort as I let some of my muscles relax slightly. "The work of your god," the same voice continued to someone else in the room. "Is this how he answers your prayers?"

"See if there are any still alive," commanded another new voice. This voice made my body tense. It was empowered and commanding, a voice that you listened to whether you wanted to or not. But at the same time the voice was also kind and through it you could almost imagine how the person would react to any situation he was faced with.

The sounds of chains being cut through by the edge of a sharp sword rang through the cramped dungeon and were quickly followed by the clang of the metal door falling to the packed ground. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of possible freedom from this retched hell hole that I had been condemned to. Those sounds were followed briefly by one of the monks hissing and then the liberating sound of steel slicing through skin, bones, muscles and other organs rang in my head like the sweet tune of a nightingale.

I opened my eyes again as I heard the insane monk speak again. "There was a man of god," he said. His voice was too calm for a sane person at such a time.

"Not my god!" the first voice claimed before I heard footsteps coming closer to Guinevere and mine's cells.

"This one's dead," said the commanding voice again.

"By this smell, they are all dead," said a voice that was more accented than the rest. I could just picture the wild beast such a man would be on the battlefield. "And you, you even move and you join him," the voice continued and was accompanied by the sound of a moving flame as though he was using the burning object to indicate something.

The sounds of the hinges creaking and banging against the packed walls continued and a fourth voice called out to one of the others. "Arthur!" My eyes shot open at the single name. _Say his last name,_ I hissed in my mind. _Give me some hope of finding him._ But the fourth voice continued only to the little boy he had rescued. "You must not fear me," he said with a kindness in his voice. But it was rough and I knew that although the man may be kind he had an intimidating form.

The closest cell cage sounded as they cut it down and I knew that they had found Guinevere in her cell. I smiled slightly for her.

Then a man dressed in armored garb came around the corner to where my containment was hidden. He was blonde with wild hair that reached down to his back in braids. "Arthur," he called over his shoulder. This was the man who contained the wild beast inside himself.

A man with short, dark hair joined him. He was dressed as many of the Roman officers I had seen in my travels. He was Roman that was true but his eyes spoke of other lineage; a deep, mossy green that shone even in this damp light and darkness.

I smirked as they approached cautiously towards me. "Oh…don't be shy," I said, making them freeze. "I don't bite unless provoked."

"You are Sarmatian?" the Roman asked. He had the commanding voice. So this was the infamous Arthur Castus.

"That I am," I replied with a kinder smile. "If you would be as kind as to release me I would much appreciate it."

The blonde, who was also Sarmatian, nodded and moved forward. Arthur moved forward to catch me if needed when the Sarmatian knight cut the chains that helped to support me. I stared up at the rusted ring again as my kinsmen pulled out a dagger to cut the chains with. He looked to Arthur then for the ok and the Roman commander nodded. The knight moved swiftly as he cut through the chains that held my arms up above my head.

As I was released I stumbled forward and groaned as my broken ribs moved in an unpleasant way. I made it a few feet before I stumbled again and almost fell to the ground. The Sarmatian got to me before I could fall though and lifted me up into his arms so that I wouldn't strain myself. Arthur, with a nod of assurance from the knight, took up Guinevere and carried her away. Everyone else had left the dungeon and I was glad for even a moment's peace.

Outside it was snowing and the air was cold but the warmth of the knight who carried me spread through my limbs and kept me from shivering.

"Water! Give me some water!" Arthur called out as he carried Guinevere to somewhere where he could tend to her.

I heard other murmurings, mostly about the boy and his dead family, but I drowned it out as I drank from the canteen pressed to my lips. From my shroud of hair that covered my face in dark strands I took in all the knights I could see. The one who cared for the boy was a tall man with a scarred face but his eyes and hands were gentle as he handled the boy like glass. There were three on horses. One was a large man who looked a lot like the giant. Another was a boy who was younger than me even. He had facial hair that I assumed he tried to use to look older than his years. The last one I could not see, but I heard him speaking in a mumbled voice about the woad princess I had come to know as a friend. The last knight that was there was staring over Arthur has he cared for Guinevere. His gaze held a multitude of emotions ranging from annoyance to slight understanding.

Suddenly a voice that was more annoying than the gods' fickle minds yelled at the gathered knights and flipped a switch in my mind. "Stop what you are doing!" the lord, Marius, demanded.

"What is this madness?" Arthur growled as he stood up to confront the evil man.

"They are all pagans here!" Marius replied as though it answered everything.

"So are we," the young knight said with slight malice in his voice.

"They refuse to do the task god has set for them!" Marius declared. "They must die as an example!"

"You mean they refuse to be your serfs!" Arthur yelled back. His anger was rising by the second and I was glad that the fury was not directed at me.

"You are a roman," Marius said in a snide voice as if he was lecturing a child who had dishonored him. "You understand. And you are a Christian." His evil gaze turned to his wife who kneeled beside Guinevere to give her comfort. "You! You kept them alive!" he accused before slapping her across the face.

Before anyone could react, I had taken the dagger from the blonde knight's belt and lunged at Marius, pinning him to the ground. I held the knife to his throat and his guards came forward to stop me but he cried out to them, telling them not to do anything. "You are a vile man, Marius Honorius," I hissed. "I would take pride in cutting off your ears for what you have done to the boy, your nose for what you have done to Guinevere, your tongue for every bad thing you have called your gentle and caring wife, each of your fingers for every soul lost in that dungeon, and lastly your eyes for what you have done to myself," I growled at him. "But it's your lucky day that these knights want you to live so that they themselves can go home," I said before releasing him.

He watched me with wide eyes as I backed away from him and his men. As I departed I pushed my hair up out of my face so that I could see more clearly. A collective gasp went throughout the knights as I exposed my face to them. I knew what they stared at.

The tribal markings that spread down the right side of my face and down my neck only to disappear under my clothes had caused a lot of people to wonder at their meanings but these men knew their meanings and they were awed by it.

The young pup rode up close to me so that he could get a better look at my markings. "You are a Valkyrie? Blessed by the Goddess?" he asked.

I looked up at him with a lazy smile. "Aye," I sighed. "That I am. And who are you, young pup?" I asked.

He blushed slightly. "I am Galahad," he replied. "What is your name?"

"A-"

"Her name is Aeron," said a voice from behind me. I froze at the voice and felt the prickling of tears at my eyes.

"Tristan?" I whispered his name. I knew it would carry on the snow laden wind that rushed past me.

"How do you know her name, Scout?" Galahad asked, looking over my head.

"Aeron…" he whispered my name back to me.

I spun around and ran straight into his arms, wrapping my own around his lean waist. His arms wrapped around me in return as he held me tight and close to his warm body. I felt his hands in my hair as he weaved his fingers threw the black strands that hung around me in a mess. I took a deep breath as I buried my nose in his chest. The smells of cedar and grass still clung to him but now he smelled of leather as well.

"I thought I'd lost you," he whispered into my matted hair.

I laughed lightly and pulled away from him to bring my hands up and cup his face. "And I you," I said with tears of happiness in my eyes.

"Will someone please explain to me why Tristan is hugging a girl and knows her name before the rest of us?" Galahad groaned in frustration behind us.

"Yes," the knight who had watched Arthur said. "I would like to know as well," he continued with a smirk.

Tristan looked up at his fellow knights with a new air about him. "Brothers, this is my wife, Aeron," he said.

"No wonder Tristan has never touched another woman before," the big knight said from atop his horse with a laugh.

"Lancelot could take lessons from him," the giant said with a smile.

"Let's move out," Arthur called after he and the giant had settled Guinevere and the boy into one of the caravans.

"You'll ride with me," Tristan said as he led me to his horse.

"Aidan…" I said to the horse as we approached. I pet his velvet soft muzzle and he moved towards me as he remembered my smell. "It's good to see you again, old friend," I replied to his greeting as Tristan got into the saddle. He reached down for me after he was situated and brought me up to sit in front of him so that he could keep me warm.

"You may sleep if you wish," he whispered in my ear as we began to move.

I smiled and leaned back against him and let myself sleep for the first time in several weeks.


End file.
